


Sweet dream or beautiful nightmare.

by othersin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bestiality, Dream Sex, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Forced Orgasm, Holy Water, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Mind Games, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sadism, Sex with Snake Form Crowley (Good Omens), Succubi & Incubi, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wet Dream, incubus, misuse of holy water, the fall of eden, this is messed up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22526917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/othersin/pseuds/othersin
Summary: Gabriel has caught his Principality with the Serpent of Eden, the only thing he can do is take him back to heaven to purify the tainted one and punish him so the other knows not to do it again. Let the curtains rise, Let the show begin.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

“Shame we can’t make just angels fall because of a little dabbling into lust anymore, the amount of paperwork and the need of a fair trial…” Gabriel grinned, as though that would fix the worry that seized the principality that had been pinned to an altar the moment he was flung into the office, all teeth and violet eyes glinting in the hallowed halls, “No matter how utterly disgraceful it is for an angel to fornicate with a lowly snake.”

Aziraphale was trembling, ensnared by the archangel’s magic the moment he crossed the threshold – robe stripped from him and right side completely immobilized by the blaze of the glowing angelic seal, the others power forcing his alabaster feathered wing pulled taut in an unnatural position. Long primaries and his secondaries flared out like he was pinned into position, it trembled, twitched at the sensation of many hands pressing and pulling the powerful wing surrounded with the warm grace of god. The archangels usually sparse office had a stone table, like a cross to allow space for the full span of the angel’s wings to be on display.

“Whatever you believe you have seen – it’s just a misunderstanding…” Aziraphale began to plead to the no nonsense angel, something about being called into the others personal office without the council of the other archangels set him on edge.

“Misunderstanding?” Gabriel echoed back, the angelic boom made the void of the office shake and tremble though he did not raise his voice. Aziraphale could feel the timbre of the others voice roll over him like a crushing icy wave of the ocean – throwing him against the rocks.

“I saw you in the garden.” Gabriel chuckled, walking around the bound figure – circling like a predator to its prey, a vulture flying high above waiting for the rabbit to fall under the intense heat of the sun.

Aziraphale paled, warily tracking the other with his fearful blue eyes.

“Robes open, your effort dripping and that serpent against you – were you able to find release like that, did you love the sensation of scales upon your lusting flesh?” Gabriel continued, stilling by the others bound legs, the other had not worn the effort to the meeting in question but it didn’t stop the others hand crawl between the gap and press two fingers in the illusion of pleasuring a cunt, stroking at the smooth pelvic mound.

“Gabriel…” Aziraphale hiccuped at the sensation, panic making him struggle even more – the others powers just tightened around him, exerting his own force effortlessly against the shorter angel. 

“Twined around you, the beasts cocks was thrusting against your clit till you were crying out in rapture – at least he was not able to go too deep in that form, if he did, I may have had to clean out the serpents filthy seed.” The archangel continued, expression shifting in a combination of anger, disgust and perverse pleasure at the very sight of the former angel of Eden.

“…’ Aziraphale tried to ignore the harsh press of fingers, corners of his eyes watering, only a month or so ago in Eden was that the snake slithered by his side and started a conversation with the guard of Eden. Both Adam and Eve had been cast out of the garden, leaving the serpent and angel to their own devices waiting for their own sides give them different assignments.

It just happened, none of it was planned – a mistake, out of boredom is what the serpent said. No one would know what transpired, the angel feeling a little foolish for taking the demon at his word.

“Did you believe that the demon shielded you from my sight, did you believe the snake when he reassured you, ‘don’t worry angel, upstairs will never know’?” Gabriel mimicked the demon’s tone and even hiss at that point, a tiny miracle to modify his voice – Aziraphale flinched at that.

“Don’t undermine my intelligence at saying this was all a ‘misunderstanding’.”

Gabriel removed his prodding fingers,

“Please stop…” Aziraphale begged, humiliation clawing at his gut at the continued unwanted touches – yelping when the other grasped him harshly by his ample corporation’s rear.

“Do you think that demon would pass off the opportunity to brag how he tempted and sullied the purity of the guardian of the eastern gate as a beast – your naivete is astounding.” Gabriel continued, hand releasing its hold on the others flesh but leaving a hot, inflamed hand print – if Aziraphale had been mortal surely it would leave bruises on his milky white skin.

“Did you honestly think he would hide his win against us? He is probably being commended on his temptation this very moment you are pinned and bare to the sins – he does not care of the punishment you’ll have to endure because of his wiles.” The hot hand returned, moving against his bare buttock, to the chubby midsection in a gentle, but mocking lovers touch. Stroking the others back as the bound angel sobbed openly.

“I’m sorry…” Aziraphale sobbed, shame prickling at his body and a deep sadness regarding his demon companion – he seemed different, he was different from other demons but the bitter truth that Gabriel spoke regarding what occurred.

“You’ve bought this shame onto yourself.” Gabriel hissed, “I have half the mind to go straight to Her and discuss this sordid affair, but with the betrayal of the humans – I do not want to upset her further.”

“Please don’t…” Aziraphale shook his head.

“Do you want to upset the Almighty even further Aziraphale?”

“No…”

“No one wants to upset her – and I know you are a good angel deep down and we forgive the sinner, punish the sin.” Gabriel’s hand continued their path, mapping the flesh with the pads of his hand – going between the shoulder blades, between his wings, up his neck and curling a fist in the blonde white curls of the pinned angel.

“Ugh…” Aziraphale groaned, the hand tugging his head sharply upwards.

“So, if you would please hold still while I prepare – while we are at it, summon your effort would you, even the snakes seed landing on you is abhorrent so we should take the time to clean your desirous body from that taint.” Gabriel continued, finally releasing the others head – hitting the bench the other could not move from.

Aziraphale attempted to shift against the binds, still no give to them – watching as the violet eyed angel popped away for a moment, returning with a rough looking cloth hanging on the glass rim of a basin of shimmering holy water. It appeared to be blessed by Gabriel himself, disgust and fear roiled in Aziraphale’s gut at the sight of something imbued by the others essence – he held it so casually and in his other hand.

“How much punishment do you feel like you deserve, it would be best for everyone if you stay in heaven for the time being – let me manage damage control, if you are good and take what is due; I’ll make sure that this little…episode won’t be gossiped about.” Gabriel worded it like he was doing the other angel a favour, because he was dirty and filthy, he should be thankful that the other was giving him the time of day.

“I…I will take as much punishment as you believe is due…” Aziraphale gasped out, recalling the others request to summon the effort he used in the garden – wincing at the ghost sensation of the archangel’s harsh presses of his hand, he summoned the puffy lips of his labia; hiding within the folds the place that his demon companion had shown him by touching him reverently with his own sex and forked tongue. It had been the second time he summoned the effort in question, thinking it would be easier with the demon’s own configuration – the cold air hitting such a sensitive place and the coolness of the bench made him long to press his legs closed or able to cover himself.

“Hmm, in your depravity and lust – did he end up entering you?” Gabriel continued, summoning a simple chair and table by the bench, “Did he split you open, sow his wild oats – did he make you bleed?”

“No…”

“Good.” Gabriel hummed, moving the pinned wing – stroking the white plumage in a preening motion, usually an act that was calming but with not how the other payed careful attention to the flight feather and the primaries, “The amount of time you were in the coils of that demon was around about ten minutes, give or take – so it is fitting that I take ten of your feathers.”

Aziraphale couldn’t stop how watery his eyes were getting, cheeks to flushing in embarrassment and shame – the gently strokes of his feathers just increased his anxiety with how gentle the fingers traced the spine of one of his long primaries, pinching at the tip.

“Tell me this is what you deserve.” Gabriel spoke so gently, even though he tugged at the feather slightly.

“This…this is what I deserve.” Aziraphale repeated back – screaming out in agony as the first feather to be plucked was pulled out sharply, wings trembling as he watched helplessly as it fluttered to the ground. The feather was pulled perfectly however the burning sensation of an injury inflicted on his ethereal, angelic wings followed with the blooming golden blood in its wake and dripping upon the other feathers – the pin of the feather looked to be ready made quills dipped in golden ink, the stories written by the feather and blood of an angel would be one of beauty and woe indeed.

The next feather followed the same way, each successful plucking had the archangel force out a confession of the others need to be punished as this would be the only way to fix the problem – Aziraphale was sobbing in agony by the fourth feather.

“Please stop…” Aziraphale begged as Gabriel moved to the 5th one, the others fingers had spots of golden blood on them.

“But you deserve this.” Gabriel parroted back at the bound angel that whimpered, “Tell you what, lets give the wings a moment of underserved peace and move on to the more concerning matter.” The taller angel grinned, taking a moment to wash his hands of the metallic blood in the holy matter – the blood not affecting the makeup of the holy incarnation

He dipped the rough cloth in the water, moving close to the others body - dipping into the valley of his trembling thighs, water dripping on his buttock in the movement and digging a cloth covered finger, not that of the gentle motions of that of a considerate lover but of the harsh motion of someone trying desperately in their fury to clean up a dark and stubborn stain.

The cloth was still rough even the water dripped freely from it, but the rag felt like sandpaper against such a sensitive place. Aziraphale screamed in the room, eyes streaming red tears – dripping on the pale stone slab as the other continued the vile ‘cleaning’.

The long fingers split those lips, Aziraphale’s labia being exposed its inner pinkness to the world – dipping deeper then the tumble in Eden, being rubbed raw and inflamed, maybe even bought to bleed though the now limp angel, trembling against the block, unable to even scream with how rough his throat was and drained he felt.

The exploring hand pushed further, the wetness dripping between the angel’s thighs was possibly a mix of blood and holy water – the archangel was not leaving any place unmolested, not seeming pleased with the sudden dissociation of the other.

“Now then, this is a punishment – you have to be present to it my dear.” Gabriel cooed, and then pressed harshly against the little fleshy bundle of nerves at the top of the others vagina. The archangel had pressed his clothed chest against the others back for easier access.

Aziraphale screamed, arching in his bonds to try and get away from the unwanted prodding – Gabriel hummed in approval of the others reaction and continued to roll the others clit.

“You must enjoy this, a snake did It for you – this must feel really good for a harlot like you…” Gabriel’s motions become less angry and vengeful.

“No, I…” Aziraphale winced, even with the gentle shift – everything felt inflamed and sore.

“Bet this must feel so good that you can come from just this…am I right?” Gabriel chuckled and while still grinning, “You should come from this, I can give you so much more pleasure and love then that tempting serpent.”

Gabriel…stop…please.” Aziraphale attempted again, head helplessly falling on the bench

“Why don’t you repent your sins, I won’t pluck anymore of your feathers – I just need you to come from this, from what I’m doing to you – from me cleansing you, purifying you.” Gabriel groaned, causing a small miracle to make the cloth disappear – bare finger against the inner warmth of the others corporal form.

“Please stop.” Aziraphale begged, trembling harder when the slickness his body produced by the forceful stimulation – hiccuping even more so when the other continued to finger the bound angel, pushing deeper and cruelly into the others heat.

Aziraphale kept on trembling as the other continued to stroke and play, unable to contain his little cries – till the poor angel could only spiral down into a forced orgasm, Gabriel felt the others release drip down his finger from the soft, wetness a little smugly. He froze however when he saw drip down his fingers – a black substance, inky and tar like.

“Well, that’s interesting.” A suave and dark voice cooed in the archangel’s ear so suddenly, it made Archangel rip his hand from the comforting confines of the principality and sudden the sensation of taloned fingers pulling him roughly by the shoulders – fingers covered in the corruption.

“You know, I showed quite a similar scenario to Crawley; one of my best works – but he surprised me, he didn’t succumb to this amusing little game I had decided to play, it’s as though he isn’t just a worthless trash noodle – almost like he is better than you.” The voice whispered, like whispers of sweet nothings from a wanting lover – amusement dripping from it like sweet sap from a cut on a tree.

Gabriel span around, looking wildly in his office again as the voice continued to chuckle followed by clapping, as though they witnessed a great performance – the flickering of heavens light made him freeze as an unnatural chill seemed to fill the air. The sudden creak of wood, as more of the bright light of his office seemed to dim even further as the walls of his office fell away, like set pieces they fell around him with heavy thuds – the inky blackness that fell bare to the angel and the lone figure in a well fitted suit and ruby red tie with black roses in an empty red velvet seated theater.

“And yet, the righteous archangel could not help himself.” He continued to chuckle, “And let’s not forget to give ‘Aziraphale’ a round of applause – I thought he was a little out of character but it still worked.” The spectator continued joyfully, “Was not expecting you to dig so deep to rupture my magic though.” He clicked his fingers with a smirk.

Gabriel turned quickly back to Aziraphale, who simply collapsed on the slab – joints falling away like a fragile ball jointed doll, head rolling away close to his foot, neck pouring out the blackness, void like and corrosive.

Gabriel leaped away, horrified.

“I haven’t had such a heavenly meal in such a long time – your lust Archangel Gabriel is truly divine.” He made a show of pulling out a tooth pick, and cleaning his teeth – like he just devoured a tender steak, patting his stomach, “Thank you for the meal.”

“This – you made me do this.” Gabriel muttered, voice raising in his panic, “Demon, you shall be punished by the might of god.” Gabriel held out a hand to summon a sword, but nothing came.

“Oh darling, that’s cute – you can’t harm me here, this is my theater.” The other grinned, all sharp teeth – wings flared out, feathers burnt and blackened but seemed to be formally that of a peacock the wispy long feathers sprayed out like a presenting peacock, his hair bleached white and worn long.

“Who are you?” Gabriel muttered.

“My dear sweet Gabe, do you not remember me?” The other tutted, tone of voice jolting the others memory finally.

“Asmodeus…” Gabriel whispered, eyes widening at the fallen angel.

“I did say I would bring you down to my level one day, and you have fallen even further then I would ever have dreamed.” Asmodeus smirked, expression similar to that of a cat that got the cream, “Alice just kept on falling down the rabbit hole… bet she’ll wish for the red queen to lop off her head to end it all”

“…This is not even real then.” Gabriel looked around, the theater of nothingness seemed to be in a void like space – a dream like state that the other and his kin wormed into like a parasite or a sperm and zygote.

“Real or not, no matter how you act, no matter what the others think of you – you are a monster, you’ll always be a monster.” Asmodeus grinned delighted, “Even dreaming or fantasying about the rape of a fellow angel – that’s not normal.” Asmodeus continued, brow arched.

“…” Gabriel looked to the sizzling remains of the life like construct of Aziraphale – expression seemed to be stuck in one of utter disgust, vacant eyes judging as it bubbled back into the void.

“By the way, I never make anyone do anything, you were the writer and protagonist on my stage – everything that happened, everything you did was all you – you could’ve have woken up anytime you wanted.”

“…” Gabriel stared blankly at his feet, breaking down mentally.

“Well, thank-you for the dinner and the show – I hope it was as good for you as it was for me.”

Asmodeus clicked his fingers just once, and the realm crumpled on its self – like an origami box, crushing the archangel with a sickening crunch.

* * *

Gabriel jolted awake, head against his white desk – back in pristine, perfect reality, and the strangest sensation of wanting to be sick filled his entire core though he did not have anything in his stomach. The dry retching started when he felt the cooling patch of his bodies own pleasures release in his grey slacks.

* * *

Hey, this was a thing – if you like the thing, leave a comment and/or kudos. And let me know if you want to see what Asmodeus attempted with Crowley.

Asmodeus the prince of lust is also the mind fuck demon; he just wants to fuck you up in all the ways. He just put the pieces there, this was a story written by the depraved desires of Gabriel after all – a perfect dinner and a show.


	2. hush, here comes the dream man

* * *

“Raphael” A soft voice called, sweet and gentle – the sleeping demon felt the cool fingers against his cheek, tracing his cheekbone and brushing the feather light touches against his lips, dragging against the demon’s cupid bow.

Now, a few things went through the demons still half-asleep mind – he did not go by that name anymore and the strange echoed voice caused a familiar warmth to spread though his body.

“Five more minutes, angel.” Raphael muttered, not before he sleepily reached out and pulled the angel on him, the other yelping when the other had been rolled under him a little clumsily.

“Angel?” The other began flustered, “Well, if that is what you wish to call me Archangel Raphael”

Raphael finally snapped awake, startling the angel in robes he hadn’t seen since the wall at Eden – Aziraphale smiled kindly at him with a little confused tilt of his head.

“What did you call me?”

“By your name…?”

“Raphael is not my name…” Raphael began, it was his name – but it didn’t seem right…

“Is this one of your famous pranks…?” Aziraphale began, blue grey eyes confused for a moment but then becoming warm, “ Remember the time you created shooting stars as a prank to Gabriel, he was panicking so much but it was so funny – this would be the first time you included me in your pranks, I’m so honored.”

“Famous pranks...?” Raphael spluttered, brow furrowing at that term – he hadn’t been known for pranks for a long time,that was replaced with demonic wiles a long time ago. Aziraphale never referred to his powers and temptations as something as simple and childish as ‘pranks’.

Aziraphale grinned, such an innocent and joyful expression – not filled with the others anxiety, the other seemed relatively at ease with the other. The shared familiarity they had still present, but something was missing.

A settling unease lingered, but he was unable to pinpoint what was wrong – hazy like walking through a smoke screen.

Raphael pulled away from the other angel, laying pliant in the clouds with a flush, the strange sense of unease that overcome made him look wildly around – fields of undisturbed clouds and above the marvelous twinkling black sky filled with stars he could recall placing himself eons ago.

“Where are we?” Raphael demanded sharply, standing up – his clothes replaced with the white robes, no longer burned and the lingering scent of brimstone was replaced with the fresh scent of something floral. He is getting all the wrong types of déjà vu here, the memories of the fall…wait, did he fall?

“You are so funny Raphael…” Aziraphale chuckled, raising a hand to his cheek – confused by the warmth there, “We are in the star fields in Heaven, did you fall asleep here?” The pudgier angel hummed as they sat up – no longer bothered how he was spooned by the other angel.

“I won’t tell the other archangels about you sleeping up here.” Aziraphale fluffed the clouds and looked serenely at the midnight sky full of stars, “This is my favourite place in heaven too.”

Raphael was too lost in thought that he didn’t see the shift in the others gaze, from above to the now pacing redhead – a deep longing.

“That’s not right – we were in your bookshop…” Raphael muttered still looking around, his shook his jumbled head – trying to get it straight.

“My bookshop?” the confused tone again.

“Yes, your bookshop – what other bookshop would I be talking about?” Raphael looked to the other, trying to make sense of what has happened. What was this feeling? This sense of wrong?

“So… I have a bookshop and your name is no longer Raphael?”

“Yes exactly, we stopped the apocalypse – we created our own side, you cared for me even though I am a demon…”

Aziraphale seemed to take it in what the other was saying, the cheerful expression fading to one of a familiar expression of mild anxiety.

“I don’t understand the prank…” Aziraphale began lowly looking away, “And likening yourself to those demons…”

“I’m not likening myself; I am a demon!” Raphael snapped, regretting how the other flinched and lowered his tone, “We were adversities, born enemies.”

Aziraphale paused for a moment looking at the other with a small frown and then in an expression of sudden understanding,

“Oh, I think I understand now.” Aziraphale’s grin returned.

“You do?” Raphael muttered, because he sure the hell didn’t.

“Yes, you were sleeping – quite deeply too, perhaps you had a dream?” Aziraphale offered a solution, “Archangel Asmodeus said mortals can see things when they sleep sometimes, when they need to make sense of the things they experience– though, you would be the first angel to dream.”

“…” Raphael stared at the angel, expression honest and open – believable and logical was the explanation, own brow furrowing in confusion but then he continued, “If I was asleep, how long was I asleep.”

“Oh, well I believe your assignment to hang the stars was about three months ago – I visited you daily, trying to wake you up.” Aziraphale flushed, “The last month or so I had been watching you sleep…to make sure you are alright of course.”

“A dream, huh?” Raphael muttered, ignoring that the other had admitted to watching him sleep, arching a brow at everything around him and staring at his arms – golden markings that denote him as an archangel twined like snakes, the gold shimmered in the divine light.

“The Almighty surely blessed you with quite an imagination – probably the reason why you decorate the skies so prettily.” Aziraphale gushed happily, his own white wings flaring and glowing with pristine grace - Raphael couldn’t help but mimic the other, his wings that were the charcoal burnt black in his mind’s eye were the dove white they were eons ago.

Aziraphale flushed at the sight of them, turning away shyly – Raphael looked at his wings, with a trembling hand he reached out to stroke the white primaries in wonder.

“By any chance…” the other twisted their hands, “Would you like me to assist you in preening before you leave, a few of your feathers are out of place…”

“…”

“Oh gosh, that was too forward of me…”

“No…that’s fine, you can preen away.” Raphael said gently, chest tightening at such the expression on the others face. Aziraphale didn’t hold back once he got the others permission, walking to the others back and beginning his careful stroking and rearranging of the few feathers that were askew…pausing at one of the feathers that looked ready to be pulled out, a drop of blackness seemed to drip onto the feather from the void of space above.

Aziraphale removed the feather, a blank expression on his face as he watched the inky space discolor and burn the feather like the burning of film running too hot though a projector.

“Aziraphale, are you okay?” Raphael began, sensing the others stillness – a chill crawled up his back but it was quickly gone as soon as it came.

“You ought to keep better care of them.” Aziraphale’s smile returned, playfully chiding the other, dropping the feather out of view from the other – where it dropped in the clouds, it was though the feather got slowly heavier as it began to sink in the mallow like clouds. Raphael didn’t notice it.

“Imagine me in a bookshop…I wouldn’t want to part with any of the books.” Aziraphale continued cheerfully, stroking the feathers fondly one last time before finishing, moving away and beginning to walk away turning back to the other, “You are expected in the main hall with the other archangels.” He grinned.

Raphael frowned, he hated those meetings with the others – all of them rubbed him the wrong way, he would much rather spend his time in the stars and have the kindly principality watching adoring from the cloud cover.

“Are you coming?” Raphael asked, feeling a little off put by how the other finished so suddenly of the preening – the tell-tale warmth of the blossoming of arousal not given the opportunity to bear fruit.

“Oh no, imagine what they would think if I went there…you know the other archangels don’t like me around you” Aziraphale muttered, “I’m going to be in Eden on patrol but after that I am going to be in our secret place…such a bore now, shame no mortal can enjoy the garden anymore”

Raphael seemed to pause at that, ignoring the flare of annoyance at the other archangel’s obvious dislike for the blond angel.

“Our secret place?”

“You know, the secret place…come and visit me when you finish.” Aziraphale didn’t really elaborate on where he meant by the ‘secret place’ however a distant memory of a secluded place in Eden, where the tree of knowledge stood, behind the waterfall seemed to manifest as a possible location for the meeting place. Which is odd as Raphael was certain he never came across like that before – but he was distracted by the others soft smile; Aziraphale flew down from the platform of clouds to soar though the heavenly city before even dropping below that point to enter the mortal domain to the abandoned garden of Eden.

Raphael just felt a pang in his chest at how the over disappeared below the clouds down to earth below – taking a moment to continue to be puzzled, the confusion didn’t last however recalling that the principality had retrieved him for a meeting. His kin were right bastards, if he was late again, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. So he took the others advice and made haste to the main building – when he left the cloud platform, he did not turn around so he wouldn’t have seen but the place that the feather had sunk opened and gave away further, bubbling and blistering like overexposure in photos, burning like cigarette burns against a white piece of paper.

* * *

Raphael stepped carefully though the white halls, milky white and as he remembered from so long ago – the pillars that supported the white void of the ceiling seemed to extend on forever. Some angels moved around him, nodding or smiling politely at him but the unease continued.

Raphael almost jumped at the hand that grabbed his shoulder, clawing and grasping suddenly, but he forced himself not to – turning slowly to face the other.

“Well, well – look who decided to come down from the clouds…we were worried.” The other angel beamed at the red head, his hair long but where Raphael’s fell into crimson waves the other fell straight and white like fallen snow, his sides pulled into a bun – an ivory and gold comb that kept the bun in place was likened to that of a birds comb or the feathers they sometimes had at their crown.

His appearance was as striking and as pretentious – all with the sharp features and golden makeup on his shapely lips, lining his eyes and even his long feathery robes that looked that of a strutting peacock that trailed behind him.

“What is wrong brother, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” The other grinned, the hand rubbing the others shoulder a little harshly and added, “Or a certain principality...”

“Asmodeus…” Raphael said, the lingering dislike of being called the others brother was followed by the sharp distaste on the others tone when he brought up the blonde angel.

“Raphael, you know what the others will think.” The other archangel Asmodeus, famed for inspiring mortals’ imagination, dreams and a guarding light in the darkness of night often was seen while the star maker Raphael busied with a few galaxies – Raphael ignored the other usually, the itching sensation of the others pale eyes watching him however always irked him, like waiting patiently for him to make a mistake and fall.

He had a feeling that if the other caught him if he fell, he would not like what the other would do to him.

“Asmodeus, I suppose you are to go to the meeting as well?” Raphael changed the topic, the other smirked but removed his hand – his finger nails he wore long and sharp, more like talons really.

“Yes, quite a bore isn’t it – but with the fall of Lucifer and his ilk, it is imperative that we as remaining archangels keep to our ranks.” Asmodeus explained, “I heard that a few Principalities had fallen into sin and desire, spending too long on earth as it were.”

“…” Raphael fought the urge to run from how the other got even closer – smile unnerving, the flash of white bone and pink gum, furrowing his own golden eyes at the tint of black on one of the others teeth. However further pondering were interrupted as the other continued to speak in that strangely patronizing way – as if he was attempting to sound kindly (like Aziraphale) but it was as off-putting as the smiling jaws of a crocodile in the Nile.

“With the shame of Lucifer, the other fallen has bought to the holy host and the very order of archangel’s – I would be loathed to see my dear brother get mixed up with the wrong type of angel.” Asmodeus moved to stoke a hand though the red hair of the other, Raphael flinched away – a hazy recalling of a similar interaction in somewhere dark with poor florescent lighting in a curved tunnel, a subway tunnel? Or somewhere else underground?

Asmodeus pulled away, a furrowed pale brow – as though confused about something, but his grin returned,

“I forgot myself, apologies.” The albino clapped his hands suddenly, “I believe we dawdled long enough, we shouldn’t keep Gabriel waiting – you know what he’s like.” His mouth twisted around the mention of Gabriel – like he knew a funny but secret joke about the other.

Asmodeus continued his way, humming a tune that was familiar and grating – it echoed in the white halls, almost how it echoed in that grimy underground tunnel long ago. Raphael allowed the other to move ahead of him, a trembling hand rising to his chest as he fought back the sudden burn of bile and sickness at the simple gesture. A trauma that was best laid to rest, a trauma he was not certain if it was real.

Raphael followed slowly, not noticing how the height of the ceiling or pillars got shorter in the space of the conversation nor how the inky blackness of space bubbled and blistered the marble in its wake. Bubbling from a tiny crack, a long stripe of blackness tailed down the pillar like a winding, midnight black viper puddling on the floor – a stain in a pristine white floor, the grey natural lines in the marble became spider webbed and darker; inflaming and twisting like varicose veins embedded in pale flesh.

* * *

Raphael landed onto the wall of the abandoned Eden, an overgrown and lush garden that still Heaven demanded for it to be guarded but not maintained – no point to maintain it for the humans that no longer live there. The red head took a weary glance around, the cherubs that circled the perimeter didn’t seem to be around for once – he didn’t really want to explain to those scary bastards why an archangel was dropping in unannounced in the garden especially with the slog of the meeting he had to endure.

He dropped down further in the garden, the overgrown but still lush garden had become a paradise for the remaining animals and various insects – a cloud of beetles taken flight the moment he touched the ground by the running stream, the faint lines of inky pollution swirled in the watery depths. He turned from the monstrous tree of knowledge, some of the fruit lay rancid and rotten – the buzz of flies and squirming of maggots made him look away quickly.

Eden was no longer a heaven on earth. An abandoned place of sinking dread.

Raphael however went to the place that Aziraphale said he would be waiting inside, he poked inside the cave and there lay Aziraphale in his heavens best – however robes open and sopping wet from water.

“You took longer than I thought…” Aziraphale muttered, looking down at himself, “And I got hot.”

“Sorry, this has been a strange day.” Raphael found his voice after taking in the state of the angel – blond curls sticking to his forehead and the linen robe clung to the others chubby frame in a pleasing manner.

“Why do you still patrol here? I think even the cherubs have abandoned this place.” Raphael questioned.

“…” Aziraphale frowned at the question, “It’s the assignment they gave me, and they haven’t given me another.

“Oh…” Raphael muttered lowly, not entirely satisfied with that answer.

“And they don’t want me around you.” Aziraphale continued before pausing.

“The moment I saw you, you thought fit to talk so openly to me – you were so kind, a friend in those empty halls.” Aziraphale tailed off, pulling the robe further open, milky white pale flesh out in the open.

Raphael couldn’t stop the sudden but unneeded breath leave him so suddenly, at the sight – beautiful and exactly what he imagined the other would look like in the stuffy clothes. The ache and unease returned however – the nagging doubt at what he was seeing.

“I wish to show you my appreciation, the way humans do.” Aziraphale continued quietly.

Raphael couldn’t help but move closer to the other, in the place with just the two of them – this shouldn’t give him a moment of hesitation but it does, Aziraphale seemed to sense the others doubts by posture and tenseness of the others jaw.

Aziraphale stood and closed the distance between them with an air of confidence, the robes being discarded on the ground as he embraced the other – skin still cool from the dip in the river, his own effort ready and waiting pressed against the red heads robes as he stood on his toes to press quite a chaste kiss that Raphael found himself dissolve into quite passionately.

Raphael deepened the kiss, tugging the head of blond curls roughly, and the other squirmed so wondrously against him – pulling away for the briefest of the moment, lust blossoming in his gut however he paused the as he noticed his hand. Wet with the others dip in the river, but darkened like ink had been dumped in it – the doubts continued to bubble forth, like boiling tar.

The kissing had turned hungry and demanding, the deft hands of the shorter angel made quick work of the others robe – the cotton under things pulled up revealing his own summoned effort. Hard and wanting, his cock was half hard when the others wondering hand wrapped around it and began its careful exploration. Raphael wanted to melt into the others movements, wanted to rock into that warm hand but still the unease settled in his gut – he didn’t know why he said what he said next, but a way to confirm his suspicions.

“I love you” Raphael said, pulled back from the others wanting body – Aziraphale paused at that sudden declaration, a twitch of his mouth before he grinned warmly.

“I love you too.” Aziraphale repeated back going back to kiss the taller angel, the open mouth kisses pressed against the corner of his mouth, his jaw and down his neck – but Raphael pushed him back.

“I can’t sense it.” Raphael shook his head, arousal ebbing away slowly

“…” Aziraphale tilted his head, the smile dimming slowly.

“I can’t sense your love.” Raphael said, “I can’t sense any love around me.” Raphael stood quickly, doing up his robe.

“Raphael…” Aziraphale began lowly, trying to return to what they almost had.

“You’re not my Aziraphale and I’m not an angel.” Raphael continued, backing out of the cave – was it this long before? He couldn’t recall.

“I can be your Aziraphale.” This Aziraphale continued, grin twisting in an odd way – but not making a move to follow the other but still it continued, “I can be just your Aziraphale, yours to fuck, yours to love and I won’t be concerned on how fast you go…you can go as fast as you want.”

“No, I don’t want that.” Raphael muttered resolutely continuing his trek out of the cave – though stopping at the mouth as a figure stood by the mouth halting his exit.

A slow clap sounded out, Asmodeus still in his angelic costume stood against the bright unnatural light of the cave – looking anything but amused.

“Have fun?” Asmodeus hummed, “Crawley? Or was its Crowley now?”

“You’re a sick fuck.” Crowley hissed to the prince of hell.

“You think I’m sick? I just wanted to offer my assistance.” The albino waved the other off.

“Humans not doing it for you anymore Asmodeus?” Crowley sneered, “You even made me sit through a fucking meeting in a dream? You are a sadistic prick.”  
“…I didn’t count on your natural distrust to warp the play this much – you never really allowed yourself to accept this as a reality.” Asmodeus ignored the other critiquing his art, tilted his head, “But why?”

“Guess you are losing your touch.” Crowley snorted, moving resolutely towards the other.

“Oh, am I…?” Asmodeus muttered lowly, a threat rolling in his voice – with a click of the others fingers the scenery elongated and shifted sideways till the natural rock of the cave resembled something more man-made. Crowley recalled the architecture from the subways of London, a dark, deep place in hell or the underground bunker during the war.

Under Crowley feet, the metal tracks revealed that it was the London underground – or a version of it they were standing in

He hated this place, and Asmodeus back then had blocked the exit like he was now – a mixture of dreams and memories, fighting for control. The Aziraphale that the other had attempted to trap him in that illusion had a very un-angel like smile – sharp and cruel had blocked the other way

“Remember, when we first fell?” Asmodeus continued, “You despaired, you wished to be taken back into the grace of god – and look who comes along, a sweet angel that takes pity on you.”

Crowley stepped back warily – the dream shifting further into the hellish landscape that peeled away from the memory of Eden.

“We all know why you desire this.” Asmodeus grinned, gesturing to the still but grinning angel, “You want to bring that pretty little angel down to your level.”

“I’m not you…” The serpent of Eden hissed, eyes flashing.

“So, you haven’t had the desire to see the other fall, to be cause of the other to fall from grace…” Asmodeus continued thoughtfully.

“No…” Crowley shook his head, helplessly, the fake Aziraphale had slithered close to him – the others form had shifted similar to that of the serpent of Eden, forcing the demon on his knees on the tracks. Instead of black scales the other was ivory in colour, however it did not have the constricting or heavy weight of a serpent and the powerful muscle. The serpent creaked like one of those wooden toys that he had seen children play with – segmented with the paint chipping and the wood cracking like a brittle wooden toy from an age ago.

“And you haven’t had the desire to ruin him like I ruined you?” Asmodeus chuckled, in his patronizing way.

“No, I…” Crowley was immediately taken back to that moment, he could still the others breath on his neck – _‘let me show you how to tempt in the sins of the flesh properly…’_ the others honey sweet tone still rang in his ears, and the disgust still rolled in his gut.

There was a reason Crowley succumbed to sleep in that century for as long as he did, it was not by choice.

“It happened in a place like this…if I recall correctly.” Asmodeus continued idly, “They just built the underground in London…”

“No, stop…”

“Maybe, you’re just terrified you will ruin him – because that all you do, ruin things – that’s all your good at, we both know if you didn’t fall then Aziraphale would’ve” Asmodeus continued, suddenly appearing on the platform of the London underground, making a point of checking his fob watch – his clothes shifted back to the grey and black and his feathers looked charred grinning down at Crowley who struggled helplessly, the distant rattling that echoed around them.

Asmodeus continued in his sing song voice, singing what he hummed earlier,

“ _The dream man’s coming on a train of cars, with moonbeam windows and his wheel of stars –_ “

The train noise got louder and the light in the tunnel got brighter.

“ _So, kiss your Mummy and kiss your Pa, then all aboard you little ones –_ “

The doll that played Aziraphale tightened their coils – cracks in the painted scales and wooden body began to bleed the black corruption that dripped on the other.

“The railroad track, it is railroad bright, that runs right up in the starry night – “

“ASMODEUS, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHI-!”

Crowley didn’t have time to finish his insult – the train charged though the tunnel like a raging bull, screaming shadows hitting their hands against the eerily lit yellow of the carriages. The metal grate and tunnel had a violent spattering of blackness and blood. The wet crunch of vertebra had been covered by the rattling carriages – segmented like that painted snake toy and the screaming souls where just the serpents slowly digested meal.

Asmodeus pulled a lace hankie out from his sleeve, and idly attempted to dab away the blood away – the entire side of his face and suit was covered in blood and gore.

“ _So, come you little ones, have no fear. The man in the moon is the engineer._ ”

* * *

Crowley woke, screaming while tangled in his duvet – too similar to coils. Finally rolling out of his bed – the cool floor had somewhat grounded him in his increasing panic and racing heart. Hackles raising at the appearance of his window to his room left open – the other demons unwanted gaze still haunting him, he was shuddering at the ghost of the others touch.

He wasn’t the first of the freshly fallen that Asmodeus had…consorted with, the other finding a strange delight in bringing others down to his level, a strange drive or need to prove that even he had fallen he was still better than the others.

He didn’t know what was worse, the other not having a motive at messing with him again or he did have a motive. Crowley could only thank his lucky stars that Aziraphale did not care much for sleep, at least, he hoped the other still didn’t sleep.

Because Asmodeus is hell bound, he couldn’t leave the second ring of hell and he could only cause or enter dreams…right? Though entering the dreams of demons was new, didn’t know the creepy bird could do that.

It’s not like he would pop in the angel’s bookshop for a spot of tea…right?

* * *


End file.
